


Gallery

by Plugs



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Humanformers, Other, as in just throwing my joint problems and NDs at chracters, stiring in fluff and my fav ship, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 07:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plugs/pseuds/Plugs
Summary: Really self indulgent human au like it says in the tags. No real plot they just go around an art gallery and are cute *shrugs*





	Gallery

Hook tilted his head.

 

“Well...that”

 

He wasn’t good at lying, and certainly wouldn’t lie to Scrapper of all people. But perhaps it would be better to phrase his opinion diplomatically.

 

“...it is certainly several intersecting red lines”

 

There, very diplomatic, internally he congratulated himself.

 

“You mean, you think it’s a load of pretentious crap?”

 

Scrapper looked up at him, mouth upturned slightly. He was sitting back on the bench with a gleam in his eye.

 

“Well yes honestly, it’s a bunch of red lines in acrylic on a canvas, I mean really” He gestated at the painting accusingly, as if that would make it decide to turn into something less visually insulting.

 

“I rather like it, they signify, apparently” Scrapper looked over to the placard, “Strength and love”

I feel the lines layer to show how they support and caress one and other in an eternal show of affection.

Hook tilted his head again, he really wished he had Scrappers artistic mind. To look at something like that and see such meaning and beauty...

 

“I love you”

 

It felt rather inadequate to sum up the feelings tangling in his mind, but it was true.

 

“I love you too”

 

They were given some looks as Hook rather awkwardly sat down and cuddled up to Scrapper...admittedly that was probably the purring noise Scrapper was making but Hook couldn’t give a damn.

 

—-

 

“...you’re limping”

“It’s not that bad”

“Scrapper, you once partially dislocated your knee and told me ‘it is not that bad’”

Scrapper sighed. They’d been walking around the gallery and much to Hook’s clear relief, got though the modern art section.

And then his knee had decided it wanted to play up, it wasn’t painful...but something felt wrong. His hips also apparently didn’t like him much either right now.

 

“Ah” he looked around quickly “don’t see any chairs...I mean unless you count the paintings”

“Ableist bast—“

“—well yes, quite” Scrapper cut him off, spotting a young family “no idea why they had benches in one section of the gallery but not here”

“Sadly I believe they were” Hook lifted his hands and mimed quotation marks, “‘for the aesthetic’”

Scrapper sighed again and leant against Hook who was pleasantly sturdy.

“I really should get a stick for times like this...one of those old ones, Victorian—like in that oil over there” he pointed and winced slightly at the click his elbow made.

“You’d look rather dashing”

“I’d feel rather dashing, and considerably less achy”

Hook quirked an eyebrow.

“...alright, it might be ‘that bad’”

 

—-

“Well, this is nice”

Thankfully Scrapper had made it to the cafe, Hook had offered to carry him more than once. Scrapper had told him that the gesture was appreciated but perhaps not appropriate for the location. Hook found that ridiculous, but Scrapper did have the better grasp of social convention.

 

Also, from the looks they were getting,Scrappers need to eat every meal with a spork was also against social convention, but his coordination issues meant using more then one implement got messy.

“..Hook?”

He cleared his throat, “Was just thinking”

“About?”

“...Sporks”

Scrapper lifted his spork, and looked at it, “Well, they are rather wonderful, practical, strong-like something else...”

“What?” Hook frowned.

“You”

Scrapper reached out his free hand to hold Hook’s, he stroked over his hand gently, tenderly.

Hook cleared his throat, his brain didn’t seem to want to provide a verbal answer, but lifting Scrappers hand and kissing it likely got the message across.


End file.
